


The Hacker and the Athlete

by thepinkunicorn



Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Established Relationship, Jealous James Bond, M/M, Q is a smart piece of shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 03:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepinkunicorn/pseuds/thepinkunicorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story of how Q and James met and got together in a series of flashbacks. </p><p>I seriously suck at summaries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hacker and the Athlete

**Author's Note:**

> So I will turn this into a longer fic at some point, but that day is not today. I put this up to see if people like it. 
> 
> Disclaimer.

Q sat hunched in the corner of the boy’s locker room, laptop open, fingers flying over the keys in a whir of indecipherable patterns. He was working on hacking the school’s security system, and although it was a simple process that usually only took him a matter of seconds, he was having particular trouble that night, due to the biting cold that had numbed his fingers right through his woolen gloves, and caused them to keep slipping on the keys.

He knew he should have stayed in his dorm that night, but the thought of seeing James in his kit was distraction enough to make him lose focus on his work and head down to the soccer pitch bundled up in three layers of sweaters, a huge scarf, and a pair of thick woolen gloves. None of it had done any good, however, against the intensity of the harsh wind. In a matter of minutes, Q had become chilled to the bone, and had decided to wait it out in the locker room. At least he would get a chance to see James after the game. Thankfully Q had had the foresight to bring his laptop down with him, so at least he had something to occupy his spare time with.

Q had finally gotten into the school’s secure files when he heard the sound of footsteps outside heading towards the door. Someone was coming. Q quickly exited out of the program, groaning inwardly as he realized that he had taken all that time working sore fingers for nothing.

The door opened with a crash, and he glanced up at the newcomer, who he was surprised to see was James, red-faced, breathing hard, with sweat dripping from his face and hair.

“James!” Q exclaimed, as the older boy turned to stare at him, hands on knees, back hunched over, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. “Why aren’t you down at the game?”

James smiled, ice blue eyes twinkling in the fluorescent lighting, and raised his right hand. “I told them I sprained my wrist.”

“Why?”

“I saw you leave.”

Q sighed in exasperation. “I was cold. You shouldn’t have left.”

James shrugged, as he straightened up to walk over to Q. “Not a big deal. We’re losing anyway.”

“That should be even more reason for you to stay!” James always did this. He was the star player of Redford’s soccer team, and yet he acted like he didn’t care, skipping practices and team meetings to spend time with Q in the library. He knew behavior like this couldn’t continue, lest someone get suspicious, or James get kicked out for reckless behavior, but Q couldn’t seem to persuade James to care. He always stubbornly refused to listen to reason.

That was one of the things that had attracted Q to James. He liked the boy’s indifference to everyone else’s opinions, and his refusal to listen to anything but his own reasoning, whether it was rational or otherwise. James was his own person, and he did whatever he pleased. Q could remember the first time they had met, and thinking what an obnoxious prat James had seemed to be.

* * *

_Q was late for class – again. He had overslept after staying up over half the night looking through MI6’s confidential files. Once he got going, he could never disentangle himself from the web of information that he had gotten wrapped up in. Cursing under his breath at his utter stupidity at forgetting to set his alarm clock, he turned the corner, and immediately ran into a solid wall of muscle._

_Staggering back, Q lost his balance, and fell hard to the ground, landing with a jolt, the books and papers he had been holding haphazardly slipping from his hands and flying everywhere. He groaned._

_“Great. Can’t you be more careful?!” he snapped up at the person he had run into, glancing up to see a tall blonde boy who was probably several years his senior staring down at him with the bluest eyes Q had ever seen._

_The blonde boy grinned. “Sorry,” he said as he knelt down to help Q scoop up the papers that had scattered all over the hallway. “This always happens.”_

_“You have a habit of pushing people into the ground like they’re rag dolls?” Q said, annoyed that this mess was going to make him even later to class._

_The boy chuckled. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to run into you.”_

_Q just grunted, continuing to stack up his books. He really wished he had taken the time to pack everything up in his bag before he had left his room, like he always did. If he had, he wouldn’t have been in this mess._

_“So what’s your name?” the boy asked cheerily, and Q couldn’t help but hate his attitude. Couldn’t this boy see that Q was in no mood to chat?_

_“Q,” Q replied sharply, hoping the boy would get the hint that he didn’t want to talk._

_“I’m James. Nice to meet you, Q.”_

_“Mmm.” Finally Q had gathered up all his things and he quickly stood up. “Thanks,” he nodded to the blonde, and abruptly turned to head to his class._

_“You are certainly welcome, Q!” Q heard James call to him as he rounded another corner and the blonde disappeared from his sight._

_He hoped he never saw that boy again._

* * *

Of course Q saw him again, but the next time was much different.

* * *

_Q was in the library, scrolling through the files of Q-branch at MI6. He had a free period, and had decided to go into the library and do what he normally did – practice hacking into MI6’s most secure files. It had become a hobby for Q. He knew he was good – he could do more damage to the local police database with his laptop before getting out of bed in the morning than any serial killer ever could with a gun – but he couldn’t do anything with his skills until he finished school. No agency would take him seriously without a degree._

_So until the time Q could get a job at MI6 and take over Q-branch, he spent his time learning everything he could about the British Secret Service – which included hacking into their most secure files and taking a stroll around all the confidential information they had tried so hard to keep hidden._

_Q was reading about a major case that was giving MI6 and their agents trouble, when he felt a presence behind him._

_“What are you working on?” he felt a voice breathe into his ear, and Q jumped, spinning around to see James standing behind him, grinning cheekily down at him. Q huffed, before turning back around to exit out of the program he had been working on. “No need to stop on my account.”_

_“Don’t flatter yourself,” Q snapped, praying the boy would leave him alone._

_“What were you working on?” James asked again, leaning down, resting his hands on each side of the desk, so he was caging Q in his chair._

_Q’s breath hitched in his throat, but he caught himself, before grinding out, “It’s none of your business.”_

_James chuckled, breath ghosting over Q’s neck, and Q could feel himself blush. “I’ll get it out of you soon enough.”_

_“Don’t count on it,” Q bit out, trying his hardest to keep his thoughts under control. Although James was an arrogant prick, Q couldn’t help but feel strangely attracted to him. His boisterous attitude was strangely appealing and Q couldn’t deny the boy was gorgeous. It didn’t help that James insisted on leaving no space between the two of them. It did bad things to Q’s body - specifically the lower half._

_Even though James made Q feel like straying from his normal set of moral codes to become a short-lived murderer, he couldn’t help but want to fuck James’ brains out, either. Which was bad, especially considering the fact that James was on the soccer team. The soccer team at Redford was infamously known as being strictly homophobic. Q would probably get beaten within an inch of his life if he even remotely showed an interest in Redford’s star player._

_When James leant closer to whisper, “I am,” into his ear, Q struggled to remember why exactly he shouldn’t turn around to jump the boy._

_Thankfully for Q, James decided to leave at that moment, and when he disappeared behind one of the shelves of books, Q let out a sigh of relief, and slumped back into his chair. He had been so stupid. He shouldn’t have let his emotions get control of him like that. Q accounted it to him being a gay horny teenage boy locked in a school of good-looking guys, and left it at that, going back to his computer._

* * *

For the next few weeks after that event, Q had made sure to avoid everywhere he thought James might look for him, but it hadn’t done him any good. James had found him regardless, sometimes staying for a few minutes, some for a few hours, talking to, and simultaneously annoying the hell out of him.

Those few weeks had been interesting. Q had always wondered how James had always been able to find him. Q prided himself on his ability to blend in and hide away when he wanted to, but it was like James had a sixth sense that was somehow attuned to the younger boy. However hard Q had tried to hide, James had always found him.

It was almost disturbing, at times.

* * *

_Q was working outside when it happened. He was sitting underneath a gigantic oak tree that had been on the school grounds for over a century, working on a huge paper that his history professor had given him two weeks prior. He was happily enjoying the sunshine, and the beautiful spring weather, silently relishing the fact that James was not there to break the silence._

_The older boy had been following Q around like an obsessed stalker the past six weeks, and Q was getting tired of the increased attention. Sometimes, he just needed his space. Sighing in contentment, Q continued to type, detailing the events that had led up to the First World War. It was so nice to be alone._

_He had almost finished an entire page when he was abruptly assaulted by a pair of hands, and the world went black. Q groaned in annoyance. “Not now.”_

_His eye sight was suddenly returned to him as the two hands that had previously been covering his eyes were removed, and the hands’ owner was revealed in front of him in the form of a tall, lithe blonde dressed in half of the school uniform._

_“James, where the hell is your shirt?” Q asked, squinting up at the currently shirtless boy with disdain._

_James chuckled. “I left it in my room. It’s ninety-eight degrees out. I have no idea how you aren’t dying in that,” he said, gesturing at Q, whose shirt was still securely on his body, his tie gingerly tied at his neck._

_“Yes, well. I pride myself on decency. You could at least cover up.”_

_“No. It’s too bloody hot out.”_

_Q sighed, knowing it was useless to argue. So instead, he went right back to his paper, knowing the boy would make himself comfortable with or without Q’s consent. He was right, of course, and he watched out of the corner of his eye as James sat down and sprawled out on the grass next to him._

_“Shouldn’t you be in class right now?” he asked condescendingly, hoping it would urge James to leave._

_“Yup.”_

_Q sighed. “And why aren’t you?”_

_“Why aren’t you?” James asked, as he turned to look at Q, eyebrows raised sardonically._

_Q huffed. “None of your business.”_

_“You’ll find that you are my business,” Q heard James mutter, as he turned his head to look back up at the sky. Q chose to ignore that last comment. James had been saying things like that more frequently over the past few weeks, but whenever Q had tried to acknowledge them, James just denied it completely. Q found it easier just to ignore him then try to get the stubborn boy to talk._

_So he just continued to type, letting the silence stretch into a comfortable stillness as the afternoon wore on. They had been sitting there for a good hour when James finally spoke again._

_“Q,” he said suddenly._

_“Mmm.”_

_“Go out with me.”_

_Q froze for a moment, startled by the abrupt demand, his fingers lingering on the keys, but quickly returned to his normal unaffected demeanor as he continued to type. “No.”_

_“Why not? I know you don’t have a girlfriend, and don’t even try to tell me you’re straight.”_

_Q groaned inwardly. He so did not want to be having this conversation. “I don’t date athletes.”_

_“That’s bullshit.”_

_“I don’t date blondes.”_

_James laughed at that as he turned to look up at Q, his blue eyes twinkling with mirth. “How about if I dye my hair?”_

_“Sorry. I’d still know it was you.”_

_James was silent for a few moments, and Q thought that maybe he had given up. His theory was proved wrong, however, when after a few moments, James moved to sit up, and dragged himself over so he was sitting right next to Q._

_“Go out with me,” James whispered, and Q could feel his breath ghosting over his ear. He shivered ever so slightly, even though it was still extremely humid out._

_“No.”_

_James moved closer, and trailed his mouth along the shell of Q’s ear._

_“Go out with me, Q,” he repeated, and Q fought to stay completely still._

_“No.”_

_James chuckled, and Q could feel the arrogant smirk as it was brushed along his jaw._

_“I’m not going to leave until you say yes.”_

_“Then you’re going to be here a very long time,” Q replied breathlessly, and he struggled to steady his breathing. He would not let this boy gain the upper hand._

_“I’m okay with that. Go out with me.”_

_“No.”_

_James’ mouth was making his way down Q’s neck, now, and Q was finding it increasingly hard to breathe. He was slowly starting to lose all rational thought, and he started to wonder why saying yes would be such a bad thing._

_“Q,” James whispered, and now his hands were caressing Q’s stomach, and Q was going to explode if James did not immediately cover the expanse of white flesh that was pressing against his arm. “Q.”_

_“What?” Q whispered and now James’ lips were mere centimeters away from his and he was certain he was going to have a heart attack the way his heart seemed to be trying to beat its way out of his chest._

_“Go out with me.”_

_Q struggled to maintain rational thought. “No.”_

_And all of a sudden, everything was gone. The touch, the breath, the warmth. Q blinked rapidly, and shook his head to clear it, as he realized that James was standing up and walking away._

_Why was he walking away?_

_“I’ll pick you up at eight!” James called over his shoulder, and Q stared, mouth agape, at the shirtless boy who was now walking towards the school with a swagger to his walk._

_That cocky bastard._

* * *

Although Q had tried to skip the date by hiding in the library, James had found him – unsurprisingly. The boy had bodily dragged him through the halls and forced him into a car that he had somehow mysteriously procured from the depths of the estate of Redford. Q didn’t really want to know the details.

The date had been a lot of fun. James had taken Q to an expensive restaurant – how he had gotten the money Q still doesn’t know – and then to a movie that Q had been craving to see for weeks. He still hadn’t really seen it to this day, though, because during the whole film, James had been distracting him, leaning over to kiss him every five minutes. By the end, he practically had Q in his lap, and, well, the rest is sort of history. They had been going out for a year and a half, but no one knew but them. For, if any of the soccer team ever found out that James’ new friend was more than just a ‘friend,’ there would be major problems.

Which is what Q had been trying to explain to James ever since they had first started going out. He never seemed to fully grasp the direness of the situation. No matter how hard Q tried to explain the fact that their relationship had to stay secret, James seemed to conveniently forget, making moves to hold hands with him in the middle of class, and trying to kiss him in the middle of the hallways.

Q had no idea how they hadn’t been found out yet, and he was jolted back to the present when he felt James’ lips on his own. He paused his inner monologue, and went to kiss James back. Even after a year, James was still able to make Q’s mind melt and transform his thoughts into a jumble of incoherent sentences with just one kiss.

Before he could make him totally forget what he wanted to say, Q slowly pushed James away.

“James, this really can’t continue.”

“What can’t?”

“This! You randomly skipping out on games, or classes, or practices whenever you feel like it just to spend time with me. Someone is bound to notice eventually.”

“So what if they do?” James asked, as he moved forward to nibble on Q’s neck.

“So they’ll kill you. And I’d prefer not to face such a traumatic event while I’m still in high school.”

James ignored him, and continued to suck on Q’s collarbone, which forced the younger boy to suck in a ragged breath, and push James away entirely.

“Q,” James whined, as he stared at down at the younger boy, hurt clouding his ice-blue eyes.

“Don’t ‘Q’ me. This is important,” Q huffed.

“I can take care of myself, Q, as much as that may surprise you,” James said after a few moments, sighing.

“I know you can, James. But they aren’t the only problem. Your grades are slipping. Soon enough you’ll be failing.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” James said defiantly, but Q could see his eyes flit away to avoid looking into his eyes.

“Yes you do, James.”

“How do you even know?” James suddenly demanded, anger lacing his features.

Q gestured to his laptop. “It’s not like the school has the greatest security system.”

“So, what? You’re allowed to hack into MI6 – a federal crime, punishable by jail time, I might add- but I’m not allowed to skip a few classes to spend some time with my boyfriend?”

“That isn’t the same thing-” Q tried to say, but was interrupted.

“How isn’t it the same thing?!” James cried, throwing his hands into the air. “At least what I’m doing isn’t illegal!”

“I will not be the cause of your failing!” Q shouted.

“Then let me tell! I wouldn’t have to sneak around and skip classes just to see you if we could just tell people we were going out! You say you don’t want to see me fail, but it’s you who wants me to keep sneaking around! Are you ashamed of me or something?!”

Q felt like he had been punched in the stomach. Is this what this was about? Did James think that Q was ashamed of him? “Of course not, James,” he whispered, softer this time, gentler. He tried to move closer to James, to take his hand, something, but James avoided him, pulling back.

James sighed. “I know that, Q. I know you aren’t.”

“Then why-”

“Because I have to sit there. I have to sit there and watch while those people you call friends hit on you and I can’t do anything to stop it. Do you know what that does to me? How much it hurts me? And all because we have to keep our whole relationship secret.”

Q froze. He had never heard James talk about his friends before. Sure Q had friends outside James - he wasn’t one of those loner freaks that were constantly by themselves. From his time constantly spent in the computer labs at Redford, Q had met a group of boys who enjoyed the same things he did. He knew they flirted with him a bit, but they were harmless. He didn’t know that James had noticed them.

“They’re completely harmless, James. They’re not important.”

“They’re important to me, Q. No one should be flirting with you except me.”

Q sighed. “I realize it may be hard for you, James, but we still can’t tell. I don’t want to see you get hurt. And beside the point, I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, Q, but-”

“No ‘buts,’ James. We can’t tell. I will not allow you to get hurt because of something I could have prevented.”

“I can take care of myself, Q,” James tried to insist, but Q would not have any of it. He had seen the violence of the Redford soccer team firsthand. The boy they had targeted had fought – at first. But after the group of brutal athletes had teamed up, there was nothing anyone could do. The boy had been sent to the emergency room on a stretcher. Even though James was probably stronger than each and every one of his teammates, there was no way he could beat all of them at once, no matter how hard James tried to convince Q that he could. And Q dreaded to see what shape he would be in after they were done with him. Q would not allow something like that to happen. Not because of him.

With one last look at those eerily-blue eyes, Q turned to gather his laptop, and head out into the cold night. James tried to make him stop, but Q slipped out of every grasp, not wanting to lose his confidence.

“Q, please,” Q could hear James whisper behind him, but he did not turn around to face the older boy.

“I’m sorry, but I won’t let you ruin your life because of me.”

And with those words, Q was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the awful ending. So cheesy, but it was hard to write.


End file.
